The Return
by Bryonic
Summary: Ending annoyed me so here is the story of the end after the end. Is it time for the leader of the riders to return? Is it time for the red dragon to return? Is it time for the Queen of the Elves to become what she has dreamed? Arya/Eragon Murtagh and others included. Rated M for future scenes. (Warning will be provided for said scenes) Reviews are welcome.
1. Prologue

Hello and welcome! My very first fan fiction. I hope you all enjoy my account of what goes on after the end of Inheritance. I rated it M for future scenes and there will be ample warning before any adult themed scenes or extreme violence occurs. Naturally I do not own any of the characters in this.

Prologue

"_In the 1__st__ year AG (after Galbatorix) I Jeod, committed myself to writing down the happenings of Alagesia during my remaining years. For 30 years I have transcribed the comings and goings of the races of Alagesia. For 30 years we have lived in peace since the black tyrant was cast down and for 30 years we have not seen Eragon King-killer, leader of the riders. 10 riders have been sent to the new land of the riders, east of the Ramr river, but none have yet returned. Nasuada is also old, her son of an unknown father grows well and will soon succeed her, Orik, King of the Dwarven lands rules firm and strong and Arya. The ice cold Queen of the elves seeks to restore her people. I am old and soon I will pass into the void, of that there is no doubt. I wish I could have lived long enough to see Eragon and Saphira again but I knew them. My son and heir will no doubt carry on this tale as will his and the memory of Eragon will be passed down for all to revere." _

…_._

_My grandfather's grandfather began this account almost a century and a half ago, transcribing the days of strife. Still the peace Eragon King-killer made holds firm, it is common to see Dwarves and Urgals mix within the cities of men but of the Elves there is no sight. After the death of Nasuada they show themselves only at the annual games. Their Queen has not been seen for a 40 years, since the coronation of Nasuada's great granddaughter. 36 riders of magnificent dragons have returned to us from the Isle of Peace, home of the Dragon Riders yet Eragon still avoids our land. To what end I do not know, the old texts contain whispers of a prophecy made by a herbalist. I will ask Angela, the wise women of our street if she knows anything; she has an extraordinary collection of texts. There are rumours that something is happening in Surda, the borders are closed and the land grows dark. There is word that the closure of Surda has been kept from Eragon who is of ill health. The world may yet be shaken again. Will the rider return?_


	2. Chapter 1: The cycle begins anew

**Here starts the story proper.  
Mindspeak in Bold**_  
Ancient language in Italics_

**Chapter 1: The cycle begins anew.**

"I pronounce you a rider in full!" Eragon proclaims at his newest graduate. The 37th rider of the New age. Narvi from Kuasta joined Eragon on the Isle of Peace 20 years ago, 2 decades have past since Narvi and her beige dragon, Nuola have seen Alagesia. Eragon sighs with happiness. **"We have done it again Saphira."  
"Yes little one. A century and a half at this and yet still no sign of green-mate Firnen or two-legged elf-queen. Your dreams have been dark of late." **It was not a question. "You should go celebrate Narvi, I am sure the others will wish to congratulate you." Eragon says to Narvi.  
"Are you not coming Ebrithil?" Narvi asks, her blue eyes pinning on Eragon, calling for an answer.  
"Not now, Saphira and I have things to do but we will come before the sun rises."  
"Ebrithil." She bows her head and walks out of Eragon's office. As the door closes, Eragon walks up the spiral staircase to the top of his tower where Saphira waits. He sits against her massive foreleg and opens his mind completely to her. The starry night staring down at them. **"Unfortunately my dreams have been dark. Something is stirring but I miss them. Nasuada and Orik, Murtagh and Thorn. Roran and Katrina. So many gone and our exile continues. And Arya."  
"You should go back to them."  
Eragon groans, "Saphria, how many times? We can't go back, the prophecy.  
"ERAGON! I am a dragon, Queen of the sky. I will not be bound by pathetic words of no meaning."  
"Saphira please, let me be."  
"Hmpph."  
"What do you think of our newest batch of riders?"  
"Green, too green. We were not so inexperienced and they have not had to fight for survival like we had. You should work them harder. Blodhgarm should put them through their paces tomorrow at their first assessment. And I. I shall make the dragons work like they have never worked before. It is unbecoming of a dragon to lie idle.  
"Try not to hurt them too much Saphira."  
"Eragon." Glaedr speaks from his Eldunari.  
"Yes Ebrithil." **Even after centuries, Eragon and Saphira were still learning from Glaedr and the other Eldunari. ** "The elder dragons wish to speak with you."  
"We will be there shortly Ebrithil."  
**Eragon feels Glaedr withdraw from his mind.  
**"Time to go Saphira."  
"Yes little one. Hop on."  
**Eragon leaps onto Saphria's foreleg and from there her neck where he sits upon his saddle, he grins as remembers a time when he could step onto Saphira without having to jump. Saphira straightens herself and jumps off the roof, flaring her wings and gliding from their tower to the lake at the centre of the island. The lake has a solitary isle, only a 100ft across at the centre, Saphira drops onto it, landing softly as only an elder Dragon could. Eragon leaps off and stares around, letting his mind roam to see where every living object was upon the island. Though the sanctuary was secret, some of the trainees were very arbitrary about following the rules. Particularly about trying to come to the forbidden lake. The ring of mountains surrounding the lake was protected by the heaviest of Eragon's wards. Powered by several Eldunari and prevented all but those given permission from the Head of the riders from entering. So great was the secret it protected. Eragon finding no person watching or listening recited his true name and the floor fell away.

Eragon plunged into the darkness falling as he had so many times before coming to a halt at the centre of a massive chamber. Ledge after ledge was carved into the face of otherwise smooth rock and upon each ledge with a name plate enscribed, were Eldunari and the eggs of the dragons.  
Curaoc stood but soon sat back down, upon command from Umaroth. **"Eragon, it is time that we move the dragon eggs. The younglings grow curious and now that our race is safe we can now move the eggs to a more suitable location. But that is not why we called you here. There is something stirring in Alagesia. Talk to your riders and inform us of the goings on of the world."  
"Yes Umaroth-elda. Do you think I should go back?"  
"If you must you will, but your duty remains with your students. You are the leader of the riders, until the time comes where there are others to teach, you will not be free to be with the one you love. It is a hard task Eragon, Vrael and I were lucky in that we ascended to the head of an order with hundreds of able teachers. But you must do your duty first. You have mastered many arts, even controlling your emotions. But where the Elf Queen is concerned. You must wall your heart off. For you cannot yet be distracted from your task."  
"Thank you Umaroth elda."  
"Saphira." Umaroth says.  
"Do not grow harsh upon the hatchlings and do not push on them more than what they are capable of. Be hard, but be fair."  
"I will."  
**Eragon climbs back upon Saphira and ascend out of the cavernous fault, the Dragon eggs following, enchanted by Eragon.


	3. Chapter 2: A way forward

Sorry for the shortness of the chapter but I couldn't stretch it.

**Mind speak in bold.  
**_Ancient language in Italic_

**Chapter 2- The way forward. **

It has been a week since Eragon spoke with Umaroth and the Eldunari last. He ponders their words again and again and tries to keep Arya from out of his. It is impossible!  
**"Little one. It is not."  
"Yes it is Saphria. I can no more keep Arya out then I can leave you."  
"Oho? We shall see."  
**Eragon sighs and stairs again at the distant stars. Upon a sudden urge he stands and peers from the top of his tower. Who would have thought I would rule over this?  
Below him a buzzing city of gigantic proportions surrounds the base of the mountain. White stone buildings surround the gigantic tower that now Eragon calls home. The riders all have their own rooms in the lower floors with large balconies for their dragons. The mid and upper floors are all but deserted, there are not enough riders or visitors to fill these rooms but Eragon insisted upon staying in the office at the top. It keeps him sane to have time away from the endless buzz of the students below. Blodhgarm and the remaining Elves sang the tree houses a short work from Eragons tower. The largest building aside from the tower is the library. A huge building that dominates the entire valley completely. Scroll after scroll from the citadel of Galbatorix are entered into it's vast shelves and any discovery that Eragon or any other rider makes. Even the yearly chronicles of the humans are entered for reference. A hundred and fifty scrolls, one for each year. A large forge in which Rhunon works ceaselessly is set some way from the main complex, Rhunon moved out to the Isle some 10 years after it was established when Eragon sent word to her that a large deposit of Brightsteel was discovered in one of the mountains surrounding the lake. Rhunon works day and night forging whole suits of armour such is the quantity of the Brightsteel. The riders were finally getting new swords after Eragon used the Name to remove Rhunon's oath. The shoreline glints in the moonlight. Three leagues away from his little city a large dock is built upon the shoreline. A gleaming white road stretching from the dock gate to the tower.  
**"We built this Saphira. Who would have thought that an illiterate farm boy from a small village could do this?"  
"That is why I chose you."  
"Thank you partner of mine heart."  
"Little one. You need to control your emotions about Arya."  
"How would you suggest I do that?"  
"I found a scroll in the library."  
"The library."  
"The secret one."  
"Ah yes."  
"It is old beyond measure. From the time of the Grey Folk."  
"That old? How did I not know of it's existence?"  
"Galbatorix hid it within another. I have been reading a lot of late. There is a surprising amount on training young hatchlings."**  
**"Saphira, the scroll!"  
"Yes, well the Grey Folk developed a technique to control the mind, it is dangerous and will hurt, it will pain you like no pain before but when done, if I read this right. Your mind will be impenetrable to all except those who you choose, you will control yourself to an extent not seen since the demise of the grey folk."  
"Saphira. How painful?"  
"It is described as the agony of a lingering death several times over."  
"Why is everything so hard?" "Otherwise everyone could do it."  
"So be it."  
"Saphira. If this goes wrong. I love you."**  
**"I love you too little one."** Saphira niggles Eragon upon his neck with her snout and they proceed into his office to examine this scroll.  
Eragon arrives at his outer office and sets the lock on the door before proceeding to his inner study. The place where his most private of items lie. Upon the wall lies the fairth he made of Arya before leaving, fairths of his father, Brom and mother, Roran and Katrina, Orik and Nasuada. Murtagh and Thorn, Oromis and Glaedr, Hrothgar and even Islanzadi all feature prominently. The hard, chocolate brown oak panels cover the walls providing a studious atmosphere and scrolls lie everywhere. Some with secrets, some with orders and some just messages from years past.

Upon his desk lies a scroll, there are gaps at the top and the colour is yellow, yet the words shine, by magic no doubt. As Eragon begins to read he realises just why Galbatorix hid this scroll. So much power but so much pain…


	4. Chapter 3: A decision undone

Arya is possibly the most difficult character to write for after Alexander the Great (yeah he is a beast of a character to get right) to hold onto her devotion to duty and lack of surface emotions yet showing how a 152 years has changed her is hard. Paolini did not give much to work with but I love a challenge so I'll do my best. If anyone sees any errors, please feel free to point them out.

**Mind speak in bold.  
**_Ancient language in Italic_

**Chapter 3- A decision undone.**

The world bores her. The knotted throne for a century and a half has been her prison. Even for immortals a 152 years is a long time. **"Enough. It is time for you to go."** Firnen projects at the Elven council.  
_"Arya Drottning should we leave?"_ A more recent addition to the council asks, unaware that when a dragon gives an order it is wise to follow. Firnen roars with rage and the elves leave the hall as quick as their legs would carry them.  
**"Thank you Firnen."  
"No Arya. Your mind grows blacker with each passing day. 152 years is enough of this torture. Every night you dream of him. Yet you will not speak to him, you will not fly to him."  
"He loves me no more."  
"Yes he does."  
"Before he used to look at me as if the world was in my eyes."  
"Now his eyes are empty, lifeless. I have destroyed his soul."** A solitary tear drips from her eye.  
**"Or maybe it is this mysterious illness. For nigh on two years Eragon has appeared less and less upon the scrying mirror and each time he looks paler, more and more unhealthy."  
"Blodgharm has sworn in the ancient language nothing is wrong."  
"That does not mean all is right."  
"What would you have me do?"  
"Resign the throne and go to him and mate."  
"Firnen!"** Arya begins to blush, thankful that Tildari hall was empty. **"Anything else? Other than mating with him."  
"The games are soon upon us. Resign your throne at the end. Your cousin Nifari will prove a good King. For over a century he has laboured at your side doing the work you find so distasteful with a relish."  
"Nifari?"  
"Have you become so deep in your misery you do not see his smile when he picks up scroll after scroll? Do you not hear the joy in his voice when you say you have more work then there is time?"  
"I am diminished."  
"Not yet you are not."  
"Thank you Firnen."  
"You have laboured too long over a cause you need not have. The conditions of your ascension are fulfilled. Leave them to someone who enjoys them."  
**Arya strides out into Ellesmera. For 50 years she has rarely left the hall. She breaths deeply, taking in the calm evening air**.  
"I think it is time we go to the crags"**. Ayra mounts Firnen who flies slowly to the crags of Telanir, enjoying the soft breeze under the stars.  
A pale grey dragon awaits them. Kivali and Naldor, one of Eragon's first graduates, they are tasked with the north of the Empire and Du Weldenvarden, though they spend more time in Ellesmera reading. At just shy of a century old they are hoping to become teachers at the silent Isle.  
"_Ayra Drottning."_ The human bows her head slightly.  
_"Kivali, Naldor. How goes the northern boundary?"_  
_"Peaceful, the most we have to resolve is a dispute over a cup of ale with the humans and with the elves if a tree should be sung any higher without damaging his neighbours view. Such petty matters. At least it gives me time to write. The soul lies in words."  
"It also lies in love. You are Eragon's 10__th__ rider and yet you have not taken a wife. Different from all other humans I know."_  
_"But I am not Human. I am a rider and my responsibilities come first. Ebrithil always used to say that duty always comes first, even at great personal cost. He says he learnt that from you."_  
_"Yes, that he did."_ Arya whispers before turning away. She marches to Oromis's old hut and weeps inside, worrying not about the riders outside.  
**"Arya. Calm down."**  
She breathes in and out slowly. **"What is happening to me that I lose all control Firnen?"  
"You are a rider, your emotions are mine and mine yours. The bond will break every façade that a two leg can build up. A century and a half of being without the one that holds your heart and trying to hold it in will do that, the dam will burst from the pressure.**  
**"I need to focus."  
"Yes, I imagine you do."  
"I think we should stay the night here."  
"I am going to hunt. Be well Arya."  
"And you too Firnen."**

…****

"Arya. Arya wake up."  
Arya bolts upright before looking at Firnen by the window.** "What time is it?"  
"It is nearing lunch and two-legged council are wondering where you are."  
"Lunch! Firnen! I always wake at dawn!"  
"You needed rest. Now get on my back I shall fly you there."  
"Hmph. Silly lizard."  
"Do I have to lick you?"  
"Coming Firnen."  
**The sun is shining high, the mid-summer sun always make Ellesmera look more beautiful. Firnen lands outside Tildari hall with a thump.  
**"You need to practise your landing. After a century and a half you still can't land correctly."  
"Arya. My tongue is quivering."**

She quickly runs inside to avoid Firnen's tongue and takes her seat upon the knotted throne. The Elven lords stare but quickly take their seats when Firnen walks in.  
_"Queen Arya we must decide who is to represent us at the games." Lord Dathedr states calmy. Even after all these years he still supports Arya with the same tenacity as when she first sat upon the throne.  
_Arya holds up her hand, halting the discussions that had sprung up. _"First I have something to say."_  
The council quietens. _"As you know it has been a 152 years since the fall of the black tyrant and the death of my mother. I took the knotted throne because there was no other to lead our people. Our recovery is well under way. Our cities grow, our people prosper our children stronger. Yet I am still Queen. I am also a rider and it is unnatural that I continue to lead our people. For that reason after the games I shall resign. I nominate Nifari to take my place. Though young he has the enthusiasm I do not and the capacity to rule wisely. He is on good terms with the other races and is well respected by the other elves."  
"My Queen,"  
"No. Do not try to sway my mind I cannot in good conscience continue where I should not be."  
"Why Nifari? And not one of the other lords?"  
"Of all of you Nifari has the most enthusiasm and will serve our people with a relish and without thought of personal gain. Of that I am sure."  
_With that Arya gets off the throne and strolls out. She feels better then she has for a long time. She rolls her shoulders and smiles.  
**"We are free." **Arya laughs out loud, enjoying the weight off her shoulders disappearing.**  
"Not yet we are not."  
"What do you mean?"  
"Until the games you are still Queen and have your responsibilities. Four more weeks."  
"Shhh let us enjoy the day."  
"Let us take to the air."  
**Arya climbs on Firnen and they just fly under the bright sun. Letting the worries that used to consume them shed free into the warm summers air.


	5. Chapter 4: A secret shared

**Mind speak in bold.  
**_Ancient language in Italic_

Thank you for the reviews!  
EragonFan117- Writing is therapeutic for me so it splurges out when I'm feeling a particularly strong emotion so it could be one or two a day or once a month. Consistency is not something in my makeup.

Elemental Dragon Slayer (Awesome name) Thanks for pointing that out, when I do my sweep up after the next few chapters I'll correct it. Yep, Eragon/Arya is the main focus, but there are some unexpected ones too. About the spell if I talking on scales I would say two steps below the thing the Grey Folk used to bind magic to words.

**Chapter 4- A secret shared.**

78 years It has been since I have left Alagesia. I miss her with all my heart but she has entered the void and nothing will ever change that.  
**"Murtagh stop wallowing."  
"I miss her."**  
**"I do too but you must move on. A century approaches since the death of Nasuada and you still hide here in the forests of the North."  
"Do you want to go back?"  
"I sense the dragons coming and going. I miss them, blue-queen Saphira and two-legged leader Eragon. But for you I will stay."**  
**"I am sorry Thorn. I have kept you here without thinking about you. My own misery has isolated us."  
"It is nothing. Do you want to go back to Alagesia or straight to Eragon?"**  
**"We have to go back to Ilirea first. I don't know where Eragon has gone. And I want to see her before I go."**  
**"So be it."  
"We are finally leaving our little village after 76 years! I'm an old man!"  
"And I am still young. 78 is nothing for a dragon"**

….

Thorin walks across the mammoth walls of the capital. He looks at his shield mate, Beran. "I don't see why they keep us up here. There hasn't been a single problem since Galbatorix to require a full city guard."  
"What the Queen orders, the Queen gets. It pays to be prepared."  
"Talk like that you will make Lieutenant soon."  
"Yes Sergeant." Beran replies.  
"What is that?"  
"What?"  
"That." Thorin points with his spear at a massive red dragon flying with all haste to the city.  
"Oh it is just a dragon."  
"Not just any dragon." Thorin pales as he recognises Thorn. "Sound the alarm. That is the spawn of Morzan."  
"Do it now!"

"**They seem to have spotted us. Didn't take long did it?"  
"Panicking already? If I wanted to destroy the city they wouldn't have warning. Never mind your two-legged magic powers."  
"Let us land before they think us a threat."  
"I was hoping to fly straight in."  
"Cut the sarcasm Thorn."  
"Down down into a ring a fire."**  
**"Thorn. They will not attack. And even if they do, what possible harm could they do to us?"**  
Thorn lands softly, practised thousands of times over the years. Murtagh jumps off and leaves his sword sheathed. Better not to provoke violence.  
**"I suppose we will just have to wait."  
"Yes."  
**Men begin to fill the walls as the city garrison rushes out. What use they would be against a century old rider nobody knows. But better to fight then to die cowering. Suddenly a large (but not as large as Thorn) yellow dragon lands in front of them.  
"You are not welcome here spawn of Morzan!" The rider calls. An elf, tall and gracious and arrogant look upon his face. I suppose it comes from having none but allies close to matching your power.  
"Peace brother. Have you no courtesy? If I wanted you dead the whole city would be gone. I come in peace"  
"I doubt it."  
Murtagh switches to the ancient language. _"I come in peace and mean none in this city harm. Satisfied?"  
_The rider looks confused. _"Wait here."_  
_"For what?"  
"For Ebrithil's instruction." _

…

A trainee bursts in, a young women by the name of Hypatia rider of Aristomas. In her 10th year.  
"Ebrithil, Lithuvian requires your assistance. There is a situation in Ilirea."  
"Coming."  
**"I wonder what the problem is that it requires my urgent attention Saphira?"  
"Eragon leave your walking stick behind. Try without this time."  
"Hmm, I do feel a bit stronger. Okay let us try it."**  
Eragon limps down the stairs, slowly at first, but faster with increasing confidence. Delight fills him as he realises it does not pain him anymore to walk. For nigh on 2 years he has been wracked by crippling pain but now the pain is disappearing.  
Eragon bursts into the room of mirrors where he holds his meetings with the rulers. Or he is supposed to. **"I have been neglecting that these past years."  
"Well you are getting better. It took a high toll on you."  
"Yes but now Arya does not affect me so. I have become what I am supposed to be."**

Queen Nalani, granddaughter of Nasuada stands in the mirror of the Empire.  
"To what do I owe the pleasure?"  
"Thorn and Murtagh showed up. They swore in the ancient language they mean no harm and come in peace. Should I allow them entrance to the city?"  
Eragon frowns. **"Saphira, Thorn and Murtagh? Why have they returned? They left after Nasuada passed into the void, he thinks I do not know but I do."**  
**"Invite them here little one, they are finally ready to leave Nasuada to rest."  
**"Allow them entrance. My brother is of no harm. Give him the map to find me and tell him I would appreciate his presence. Don't worry about an escort. 152 years will have made Thorn a monstrous size." Eragon puts special emphasis on brother to make it clear.  
"Are you sure?" the Queen asks sceptically.  
"Yes, Murtagh is not evil and never has been, just dealt a poor hand by fate."  
"I see. You look well Eragon. Your face shines like it used to. Will you tell us what has happened over these past years?"  
"In time."  
"I take you leave Eragon."

An hour passes before the gates open and the soldiers begin to leave the wall. The elf rider of the pale dragon returns.  
_"You have permission to enter, Ebrithil requests you join him on the Isle of Peace, there is a map and provisions waiting."  
"I see you have all come to reason."  
"My apologies, Ebrithil advises caution when faced with an unknown situation."  
"Has Eragon changed that much? He was always charging off without a care for the consequences."  
"He is a wise teacher."  
"I imagine he would be."  
"Where is Nasuada buried?"  
_The elf examines Murtagh carefully. Trying to discern a motive. _"In the crypt opposite the citadel in a marble tomb built by an unknown man."  
"So she was not moved"  
"Moved from where?"  
"The tomb I built her when she died."_ Murtagh cringes at the most painful of all his memories and marches swiftly on, leaving the elf gobsmacked in his wake.

Two guards bar the way when he attempts to enter. "Let me pass."  
"Commoners are not welcome here."  
"Oh really? Who are you to say so?"  
"We guard the place, the orders come from the council?"  
"And what about the builder?"  
"The builder is unknown?"  
"And Nasuada's husband?"  
"She never married."  
"You are ill-educated. Nasuada was married, the builder was a dragon rider and I am no commoner. Now step aside or I shall strike you down where you stand." He roars at them. Just to illustrate his point his raises his uncovered Gedwey insignia. The guards quickly knuckle their foreheads and step aside apologizing profusely as he passes through them.

The tomb looks the same as the day he made it 78 years past. The white marble façade still shines bright giving an eerie reflection in the dull firelight. The entire chamber is empty save a great black sarcophagus set in the centre and a table next to it upon which a black rose lies.  
**"I remember giving her that rose."  
"You enchanted it?"  
"I forgot to mention it." **  
Only now does Murtagh look upon the carving, the image of Nasuada upon the lid, magically created. He traces the line of her face with his hand.  
My love he thinks. Murtagh begins to sob and slowly the steady drip of tears becomes a cascading waterfall as he talks, telling this empty place of his travels and life since her passing. The small village he created where a few isolated tribesmen live, the garden he created in her name there. The fates of their children and grandchildren.

After hours he stands tall. "Now it is time for me to go, I have to let you go. I love you."

…...

"He said he built the tomb Queen Nalani."  
"That is strange, why would he do such a thing?"  
"I will enquire it of Ebrithil. I still do not trust Morzan's child."  
"You were alive during the time of Eragon Kingkiller?"  
"Indeed I was. I was present when Murtagh bore Nasuada from the ruins of Galbatorix's castle."  
"I have heard rumours that something existed between them."  
"It is not my place to speculate."  
"Tell me of their demeanour."  
"I am sorry my lady, Ebrithil forbade us from speaking of it. I was the first of his students and I know why now. I am forbidden to reveal that memory to any person."  
"I see. So I will have to speak to Eragon to know what was between my grandmother. I have no memory of her though, she bore children late."  
"She was a great lady. You resemble her greatly, but you have a face of another in you, I cannot quite place it."  
"I assume it was my mysterious grandfather."  
"Possibly."  
They are interrupted as a guard runs in. He bows his head and opens his mouth. Nalani raises her hand. "Catch your breath first Rorthin." He pauses a moment, gulping down air.  
"Thank you my Queen, Murtagh Morzansson requests an audience."  
"Granted. Leave his weapon. He means no harm, Eragon would not have allowed him entry otherwise."  
"Is it wise?" Lithuvian asks.  
"Eragon assured me that Murtagh was peaceful. Do you trust your teachers judgement?"  
"I do but I still feel there is more to this man then meets the eye, he is holding some great secrets back."  
"Don't we all?"

The door opens again and Murtagh walks through. He looks at the elf recognising him, inclines his head slightly and looks at the Queen. He stops shocked and just stares. Looking at the Queen as if he has seen a ghost.  
For several minutes he just stands there staring with an obsessive, starved look upon his face.  
"You wished to see me?" The Queen asks. An eyebrow raised. It snaps Murtagh out of his shock.  
"I I I know your face. You look like your grandmother."  
"I heard you knew her?"  
"Knew her? I loved her. I am your grandfather child."


	6. Chapter 5: Family Reunion I

Hope it isn't too fluffy, I wanted a brotherly sort of thing going from a newly renewed Murtagh and a reconstituted Eragon. Family Reunion part II hopefully coming later this week. ****

Mind speak in bold.  
_Ancient language in Italic_

**Chapter 5- Family Reunion Part I**

"**Umaroth-elda our searches have turned up nothing, my most senior riders have scoured the land and nothing has been found, yet this impeding sense of disaster grows daily. It is not just I that feels that way now, even Blodhgarm and the others here are disturbed. Two years we have searched and nothing. What could hide in such away?"  
"Few things Eragon and none of them good."  
"Let them come. They are no match for a dragon."  
"Saphira, even though we are the rulers of the sky smaller beings can do us harm by stealth or trickery. We are not invulnerable." Umaroth admonishes Saphira. "I suggest you tell your riders to remain vigilant and cautious when dealing with unknown creatures. Arrogance caused our downfall once. I am determined that it will not happen again."  
"I understand."  
"Eragon, you look better. You should not experiment so with magic, your life at this moment is too important to risk. Before you try such experiments again you should seek our counsel."  
"Umaroth-elda the scroll stated that it would work."  
"It was written and created for a race of far more power than any since. Had it not been for Saphira giving you energy to sustain you until you could reach us you would have passed into the void and we would have had to train a rider to take your place. A task I am not sure we would have succeeded in."  
"I beg forgiveness but it was the only solution I could see to getting my heart under control."  
"You are forgiven, pay attention to your duty. Now, tell me of the changes."  
"I don't feel different in any major sense, I simply feel free on the wind, my emotions, my heart I can control it all. I can channel my entire emotional spirit into a task. Blodhgarm tells me my mind has become glacial in its movement. I no longer have to shield my mind. It is sort of automated. People cannot get in. They just hit a wall they cannot cross nor penetrate. I can see why Galbatorix wanted this. Physically I have become stronger and faster. A lot faster. It is similar to the change at the blood-oath celebration. I don't spar with my young students anymore, only the ones in their final two years. Everything has become easier for me."  
"I see, do you judge the risk you took worth it?"  
"I do. Though I would probably wait if I had to do it again. Two years of soul rending agony was not something I anticipated."  
"Eragon, leave this scroll in the vault with the Eldunari. I do not think it is wise to have this sort of knowledge on public display."  
"I shall bring it here when I come down in a few days. Murtagh is on his way."  
"The son of Morzan?"  
"Yes."  
"Eragon, until we are totally sure of his allegiance do not bring him to us. We cannot risk another Galbatorix."  
"He is a good man."  
"That is of no consequence. We know of his bond with Nasuada and we know how losing one you love can destroy one. Be sure he is of sound mind and body before you tell him."  
"Yes Umaroth-elda." **

...

Eragon sits atop his tower, legs dangling over the edge, his back resting on Saphira's foreleg. For the past week they had launched themselves into their students training again rather than observing and lecturing as Eragon had done for two years. Today the students have the day off.  
**"Eragon you should join them."  
"Isolation matters me no more."  
"It is not that."  
"You must learn about your students so that you can remedy their personal flaws."  
"I do learn about them!"  
"Of late you do not. You steamroll everything in your path."  
"Truly?"  
"Yes."  
"It seems I must learn to teach once again."**  
Saphira chuckles. Her massive body shaking Eragon. **"Not learn, merely remember." **  
_"Yes Kithuvi?"_ Eragon addresses the student that has just walked onto his roof.  
_"Ebrithil, a rider approaches upon a huge red dragon, it is as big as Saphira!"  
"Assemble the riders at the training square."  
"Yes Ebrithil."  
_**"It seems Murtagh and Thorn have arrived."  
"Let us go to them little one."  
**Eragon jumps off the tower as Saphira does, manoeuvring himself carefully so that he falls into his saddle as she dives.** "Never gets old."  
"Still one of the best things we do together little one."  
**Saphira pulls out of the dive and glides to the little dock landing smartly outside the small enclosing wall. Thorn is just coming down as Saphira lands. Eragon examines Murtagh with interest. He looks calmer. Peaceful. Happy even. Eragon smiles and hugs Murtagh tightly.  
"I have missed you brother."  
"Truly?"  
"Yes, I never held a grudge against you."  
"That is delightful news."  
"Let me show you our growing city. But first, I must test you."  
"Test me? Eragon we were so finely matched before we left and I have not spent the last 152 years idle."  
"Neither have I. Come Murtagh!" Eragon laughs and starts running back to the town, racing his brother.

When they arrive, Thorn and Murtagh land next to the other dragons, a riotous collection of colour that sparkles in the afternoon sunshine.  
The riders, sat opposite the dragons look curiously at Murtagh. They have read about Murtagh's actions during the war but have never seen the man or Thorn.  
"Draw your blade Murtagh, let us see how you have progressed." Eragon cries.

….

Murtagh draws his blade and puts a block upon it, like in times of old. **"I wonder why he is so confident Thorn?"  
"He has been training riders 152 years, he will have got a lot of practise. He probably thinks we have been lying idle."  
"Let us teach him his folly."**

Murtagh charges and strikes down with his sword. Suddenly Brisingr lies at his throat. Eragon is at his side. The riders cheer and holler.  
"Impossible. You were in front of me a second ago."  
"Again."  
"They take their positions again and this time Eragon doesn't strike back.  
Murtagh launches blow after blow using every trick and play at his disposal but there is nothing that can strike him.  
**"Thorn. Can't. Get him. Too fast."  
"Here, use some of my energy. Switch sword hands and switch styles."  
**Murtagh backs off for a second and quickly changes sword hands before charging in again. It makes no difference, he cycles through every style he knows and none can touch him, out of despair he finally makes a blind lunge at Eragon.  
Eragon casually sidesteps and lays his sword at Murtagh's throat. Stunned silence greats Eragon's victory. None of the trainees here have seen such a display of swordsmanship. None were alive or present when Eragon duelled Arya.  
_"Well done. You have improved significantly Murtagh. You're still the best swordsman here."  
"How?"  
"I have developed."_  
**"Bring Thorn to the top of the tower."  
"Eragon is that your mind? It is different from how I remember it."  
"I will explain later. Come."  
**

"**Thorn, his mind, it is like a mobile mountain, not something I want to tangle with. What has he done to himself?"  
"He is the leader of the riders, privy to many secrets of old. I doubt he has spent a century solely teaching. There any many things long forgotten he would have discovered. Maybe his change is one of them."  
"Saphira is not as big as you though."  
"I am a male."  
"Oh come on you preening dolt."**

…

"**That was too easy. Murtagh has been a rider for over a century. Even with the upping of my abilities that he was no more a challenge then the younglings."  
"Eragon, the change you wrought upon yourself has remade you completely. Your abilities have changed too."**  
**"It is jarring Saphira. The recognition that I am now the most powerful being in Alagesia. Other than the dragons of course."  
"Did you expect such power to sit at ease with you? That is why you are ideal for such a position. You do not crave it."  
"No, I would give up this power if I could. The price is too high. The look on Murtagh's face when I bested him was a look I do not want to see again."  
**Thump! **"That would be Thorn landing."** Eragon says to Saphira.  
"Down here!"  
"Eragon why do you live at the top of the tower and not with your students below?"  
"It is my sanctuary, now come sit. Let us enjoy some faelnirv, I make it myself you know."  
Eragon pours some of his finest make into two glasses. "So you have returned."  
"Yes."  
"Are you finally ready to let Nasuada go?"  
"How did you know?"  
"You are my brother. I also knew Nasuada's child. He had your eyes and jawline."  
"Does nothing escape your notice?"  
"I didn't know you built the tomb. I did suspect you left the rose though."  
"That I did."  
"It is a sad world we live in Murtagh."  
"It is, Thorn tells me we cannot live in the past. We must move forward."  
"What do you think of your granddaughter?"  
"She looks just like Nasuada but has something of me."  
"Yes she does, she behaves a lot like Nasuada too, I accidently call her Nasuada from time to time, same mannerisms, same pleasure at working."  
"Does she have anything of me?"  
"Your tenacity. She will not take no for an answer."  
"Common to our whole family line. You, me, Roran, Katrina and even Ismira."  
"We are particularly obstinate."  
"Murtagh, I would prefer you to become a teacher. You do know that do you not?"  
"A teacher? Me?"  
"You are a fine man."  
"But that doesn't qualify me to be a teacher."  
"Yes it does, you older than me and know things that I do not. You are a man of steel. I am too soft. Who better than to teach the younger ones discipline?"  
"Ah you want me to a drillmaster."  
"And more."  
"Although…" Eragon opens his mind to Saphira. **"Do you think I should?"**  
**"Yes, it'll suit him and he can spend time with her."  
**"Would you like to be the ambassador to the Empire?"  
"Truly?"  
"You should be with your family. It is a terrible thing to be separated from your children and grandchildren."  
"How would you know?"  
"Roran told me when he came to visit. I know the anguish of all my students who not relish the idea of spending 20 years here with a dusty old me. But there is a catch."  
"I knew it!"  
"You will have to spend a year here before I let you go back."  
"To ensure my loyalty?"  
"Don't be silly. You proved that when you saved Nasuada. No, I must instruct you myself. And you need new clothes. I shall get some sent up to your room."  
"My room?" Murtagh raises an eyebrow, "I didn't know I had a room."  
"I prepared one last week when Lithuvian sent word of your departure." Eragon feels slightly embarrassed but clamps down his emotions.  
"Where is it?"  
"Two floors below."  
"Which number?"  
"You have the whole floor. I thought you might appreciate the space. It also opens out on a covered half shelter so Thorn may share with you. Though if he wishes, Saphira can show him the caves where some of the dragons sleep." Eragon smiles at him, enjoying the look of shock upon Murtagh's face.  
"A whole floor Eragon?"  
"I went a bit overboard. I also decorated for you."  
"I am going to have to see this." He laughs.  
"The day begins at dawn for students!" Eragon shouts after Murtagh as he disappears down the stairs.


	7. Chapter 6: Family Reunion II

Thank you all for your reviews, they all well appreciated! Don't hold back on any criticisms or points you want to raise, it all makes the story better.  
Guest who asked for longer chapters, I'm terribly busy right now but I'll do my best.  
I will slow down a bit for the next month and a bit because I am going to get terribly busy but after that I am free free free and you can all join me on this fantastic journey and see where it ends up. Pray that I succeed in my endeavours over the next month. I need all the help I can get.

**Chapter 6 Family Reunion II**

"**He has been kind to us. Maybe he does want us here after all."  
"Eragon has never hated us Murtagh. He always showed us kindness even when we were enemies."  
"True, but this type of welcome I did not expect. He never told us about what he has done to himself."  
"I suppose he will tell us in time."  
"Let us see this room of ours."  
**Murtagh opens the door from the stairwell to his new room here and gasps in surprise. **"He has outdone himself."** Directly in front of him, is a large desk with a pile of scrolls placed upon it. A shelf behind him is filled with fairths. Nasuada features in most. Murtagh turns and looks out of the eastern window, towards Alagesia and the other cities and fittingly, Eragon had left a map table there. There is a small partition in the corner and to his surprise he finds a comfortable bed tucked away nicely, placed upon the pillow a pile of elven tunics. **"Guess I don't have to wear these rags anymore. The bed is soft, I can't remember the last time I had a bed."** Murtagh rises and comes out the other end of his partition, facing to the west where a large glass panel is fitted, looking out to the across the remainder of the island, the forests and then the glistening ocean. A peaceful sight. He touches the panel and it slides together turning into an opaque column. A neat trick. The balcony is not windy as Murtagh expected, it is warded. He laughs at his brother's ingenuity when he looks up. Integrated within the balcony of the floor above to maximise usage he has created a semi-open shelter so that Thorn can rest well. A box at the end of the platform is open, a note is stuck upon it. In a firm, flowing script, "If you wish to seal your room off, just push down on this and the platform will become enclosed. Eragon."  
He turns back round as Thorn enters and lands, making himself comfortable, examining his quarters with interest. Murtagh finds a second partition with a small tub like indentation. Clearly intended for bathing. The walls of his room gleam, the wood panelling adding a nice contrast to the stark white stone of the stairwell wall in the centre. He looks at the scroll at the top of the pile, unfurling it, he begins reading.

….

"**I wonder how Murtagh is getting on."  
"Why don't you find out?"  
"Why not?"  
"I shall wait here, I am comfortable."  
"I expected no less."**

Eragon walks down the flight of stairs before rapping sharply upon the door of Murtagh's room. "Enter" comes the voice from within.  
"Eragon! It was nice of you to give me so much space! I don't know what do with it all." Murtagh smiles at him sitting behind his desk, scroll in hand. Already dressed in the elven tunic Eragon left upon the bed for him.  
"Enjoy it, I know you have been living wild for near to a century. I must apologise that the room is sparse. We don't have much in the way of luxuries."  
"It is fine, compared to the last 70 odd years this is a veritable lap of luxury."  
"I see you have started on the reading."  
"Just how much do you teach these poor kids?"  
"Quite a lot you know. 20 years' worth of study is a big chunk of time. Even for an immortal."  
"That is a bit long don't you think?"  
"Considering I learnt all mine in a 2 years? Yes, it is a bit long. But I think it lets them get used to the idea of being a rider, lets them adjust to the responsibilities and understand the meaning of their position. And maybe get a handle on their immortality."  
"I suppose it is a lot to take in."  
"Yes it is. I enjoy getting to know them all. I think it is important they see me as a person with flaws and not the way they do when they first arrive upon my shores."  
"What do you mean?"  
"When the next riders come in, I think in two weeks' time right after the games, you shall see. They look upon me as a hero, a legend, they worship me and don't dare point out anything they see wrong. I have to break that in them so that they can serve effectively. Oh and I have to break the bonds of their race."  
"Break the bonds of their race? That sounds ominious."  
"When I added Dwarves and Urgals to the dragon riders it caused tensions in the races. Orik had a hard time in Farthen Dur and Nar Garzthog reported there was disagreement that almost resulted in bloodshed when the first urgal rider was presented at the court in Ilirea. I need to make them see past the race and see the hearts of the people, so that they share a common spirit not so easily broken with each other and equal empathy to all in Alagesia. So that when the time comes for them to resolve disputes they can do so fairly."  
"You have thought this out quite well."  
"A century of teaching does make you hammer things out." Eragon remarks dryly.  
"That it does." Murtagh stands and comes round the desk and hugs Eragon, holding him close. "I have missed you brother."  
"As have I."  
Murtagh releases Eragon and breathes deeply. "It is good to feel at home again."  
There is a knock at the door but before Murtagh can answer an orange blurs hits Eragon.  
"Uncle!" It shrieks grasping him tightly.  
"Ismira! Have I not told you to wait for someone to answer before you come bounding in!"  
"But your back uncle."  
"And this is not my room either."  
"Oops."  
She turns to look at Murtagh, her niece Ismira became a dragon rider 20 years after her birth. 132 years ago. "Oh I know your face! Your my other uncle. Murtagh!" She jumps at Murtagh and hugs him tight. "I have never met you before, but I have seen my uncles fairth of you. You don't look nearly so frightening in person as you do in that fairth."  
"So you are Roran's eldest daughter?"  
"Yes." She replies instantly growing sombre.  
"I knew him during the war. I mourned his passing. He was a great man."  
"He could not live without mother. Two weeks after she fell into the void he did too."  
"I too have lost. If it is any consolation, the pain does leave you eventually."  
"Thank you uncle."  
Eragon examines his flame haired niece and his dark haired brother and laughs. "It's a family reunion alright."  
"We three are all that remains of a bygone age in our family. How are your nieces and nephews Ismira?"  
"Growing older by the day. I don't think they will last much longer. I need to visit them when Eragon lets me."  
"It is uncle or Ebrithil, Ismira."  
"Hush. I am a century old. Surely I am old enough to call you by your name now."  
"In my eyes you are still a child and always will be."  
"Hush uncle." She replies playfully.  
"Let us go eat, Murtagh, Ismira. I am sure the others are waiting."  
"Waiting? I didn't know we all eat together."  
"Ah yes, something I brought to help people get to know each other."  
Murtagh sighs. "I suppose we will have to."  
"Oh uncle, it won't be that bad! I won't let anyone harm you. I have two uncles now that can dote on me."  
**"She certainly has a way of worming into people's hearts." **Murtagh says mentally to Eragon as they depart from the room.  
**"That she does, Roran's stubbornness mixed with Katrina's charm was always going to be a potent mix."  
"Have you ever managed to say no to her?"  
"Me? No. Saphira does it for me."  
"Cheater."  
**

….

My grandfather is still alive. My grandfather is the hated son of Morzan. I throw a cup at the wall, angry at my grandmother. What was she thinking? She could have destroyed the fragile peace she had built up. If it gets out now It'll be the end of me. It is a good job I swore Lithuvian to silence. Eragon knew. Why has he betrayed me so? I am in half a mind to ask him now. No. I shall wait until he arrives there.

I walk out of my bed chamber. I will go to her now. "Guards I am going to the tomb."  
"My Queen." He bows his head before running off.  
I slowly make my way to the main gate, an escort immediately surrounding me as I make my way to Nasuada's tomb. Even if it is only a ten minute walk it is always best to be safe. Three guards enter and make sure the tomb is empty before returning and nodding at me.  
"Leave me in Peace. No messages unless urgent and I mean urgent." I add with a threatening glance.  
I close the door behind me, leaving me in the half light of the torches set. I see the famous black rose, never wilting, never changing. Immovable by some strange magic. He must have left it.  
"Why did you do this to me? Was it worth it?" I roar at the sarcophagus. "All my life I looked up to you, to my famous grandmother yet you bedded the spawn of Morzan! Why?"  
"Did you love him?" I realise I have chanced upon the answer. She loved him. How? But. Loved him? Him? I mean he is handsome but him? I stroll out of the tomb.  
"To the library." I say to the bemused guards.  
Soon they arrive at the largest library outside of Farthen Dur and Eragons Isle of Peace. The chief librarian comes to the entrance in surprise before bowing. "My Queen? To what do I owe the pleasure?"  
"I have questions."  
"Of course mistress. Please to my office."  
"Lead the way."  
Students and readers alike look up in surprise as the I walk thorugh the corridors of scrolls and bound books. I hate not being able to walk freely amongst my people. When we arrive at the office the stern head of the guards checks the room before pronouncing it clear and holds the door for me. I step inside a room full to the brim of books and scrolls and scraps of paper.  
"Ah yes." The chief librarian says and quickly brushes scraps of paper off the chair where he indicates I am to sit.  
"I want to know about Murtagh son of Morzan."  
"Murtagh? What has happened?"  
"He arrived at the city last week."  
"He did? I did not hear of it."  
"It is important you pay attention to the world around you and not just books and scrolls librarian."  
"Yes I should get out more. But your question. Murtagh was, is a strange man. His history is scant but from what we do know, from reliable sources, some penned in the great Queen Nasuada's own hand. It seems after 20 years' service to Galbatorix he escaped and saved the life of Eragon Kingkiller, after playing a key part in the defence of Farthen Dur he went with Ajihad, the then leader of the Varden and Nasuada's father to sweep the tunnels. They were ambushed, Ajihad slain and Murtagh taken captive. There his dragon, Thorn hatched for him and Galbatorix tortured them until they were beholden to him in the ancient language. What happens next is contentious. At the battle of the burning plains. Eragon and Murtagh clashed after Murtagh killed the Dwarven King Hrothgar, King Orik's adopted father. Murtagh claimed, a story backed by Eragon, that he killed Hrothgar to alleviate the punishment he would face for letting Eragon go. Murtagh said it didn't work and Galbatorix punished him greatly. Eventually Nasuada was captured and tortured, it is whispered that Murtagh was the one who saved her but I cannot find anything credible to support that from a more impartial source. For the remainder of Nasuada's reign there were sightings of Murtagh and a red dragon upon the sky consistently but they all reports of Murtagh cease a year after the passing of Nasuada."  
"I see. What of his relationship with Nasuada?"  
"There is nothing definitive. From Nasuada's own hand he is always refered to in ambigious terms though among the community it is a widely held belief that Murtagh at the very least loved Nasuada. If that resulted in anything there are none amongst the mortals that can say."  
"Amongst the mortals?"  
"I suppose Murtagh himself, King Orik, Eragon and the Elven Queen could tell you. Though I doubt they will, when requested for more information all refused. There is a great secret they are protecting though none of us can divine it."  
"You have some knowledge of the ancient language?"  
"A little."  
"I understand that an oath in the ancient language cannot be broken?"  
"No it cannot. It is the most solemn of oaths. Galbatorix was most adept at binding people by these oaths in conjunction with the use of one's true name. It is what happened to Murtagh. Once he extracted Murtagh's true name there was nothing Murtagh could do to defy him. It took a great and momentous event to shift Murtagh's true name to the point he managed to strike out at Galbatorix and allow Eragon to cast the decisive spell."  
"So he had no choice, none at all for his actions, he is blameless?"  
"There are some who say nay but I have seen first-hand the effect of knowing ones true name. I was but a boy but a magician had gone rogue and began making name slaves out of a village where I was staying. A rider came and managed to release them but not before the magician forced them to commit horrid, unspeakable actions. The rider absolved them from blame, saying his Ebrithil, teacher in our language said none can be held responsible for their actions when their true name is invoked in the instruction. He then wiped the memories of the people so that they would never remember the horrors they committed. But I was not wiped. I remember. They cannot be blamed."  
"Thank you for your time."  
"My Queen if I may, there is a small problem. We are growing short on space and need more funds, could it be possible?"  
"Yes of course, come see my treasurer in the morrow and he will help you plan your building project."  
The guards stand to attention as she walks out, enclosing her again as she leaves. "Back to the castle." She hears herself saying. Her mind is focussed more on her Grandfather. I can't believe I hated him a short while ago. Or Nasuada. I pity him. He had a poor hand dealt to him. I wonder when I can talk to him again. I want to know more about Murtagh. I want to know more about my Grandfather.

….  
"My Queen, Eragon Kingkiller requests your presence." Jalind, her chief adviser says to her, bowing his head slightly. A tall man, always dressed in black with heavy lidded eyes, the most cynical of all men but wise beyond doubt.  
"I will be there presently."  
Her guests at this ball look disappointed as she moves to leave. "Fear not I shall return soon. The business of a Queen never ends." That rescues a few smiles she thinks to herself as she leaves.

….  
Eragon waits by his scrying mirror, the others; all paired with the other thrones of Alagesia are blank. He wants to speak to the queen, seeing Murtagh and knowing the truth will have been disconcerting.  
**"Worry not little one. She is wiser then you give her credit for."  
"She is still young. Finding out Murtagh is your grandfather is not an easy revelation to take. Look how I took to knowing Brom was my father."  
"Yes but she is not you. I doubt these past weeks have been spent wasting idly against news she knows to be true."  
**Queen Nalani appears upon the mirror cutting Eragon's mental conversation short. Dressed in a black skirted dress with a bold red trim. More dressed up then Eragon has ever seen her before. But the look upon her face takes him back to the War. When he inevitably did something stupid and Nasuada scolded him.  
"You look just like Nasuada with that angry face of yours. Many a day I dreaded seeing that expression after doing something rash."  
"Well now you know it upon my face. How could you not tell me?"  
"How could I tell you?"  
"Speak plainly!"  
"It was not my secret to share. Murtagh loved Nasuada and she him. I could not in good conscience share something that Murtagh had to tell you himself. You are his grandchild, his descendent. I had no place in telling you your paternity without his permission anymore then you do over me. Further to that, what would it have achieved? An angry you and an enraged Murtagh. I would not betray my position so."  
"Eragon, but."  
"There are no buts. All that is relevant is that Murtagh is a good man, Nasuada was a good woman and they loved each to the very end. Murtagh was so overcome by grief he fled Alagesia for 78 years! Can you imagine what grief it takes to drive a man to exile for almost a century?"  
"I understand." She says dismissing that little caveat. "The head of the Royal library filled me in on his actions in the war. Is it true that one cannot disobey a command given when ones true name is invoked?"  
"Yes. Otherwise Murtagh and Thorn would have slain Galbatorix in his sleep long ago."  
"Was he hurt by my actions? I think I might have thrown things at him and driven him from the city."  
"No, he expected the reaction. In all his life he has received little love and little welcome. He is comfortable here. But I dare say he will return soon."  
"Soon?"  
"It is a possibility. I will say no more until things become clearer."  
"As you wish."  
"How is the Empire?"  
"Trade is good, the Dwarves, Urgals and Surda are all doing well but the Elves are isolated still."  
"It is as expected. It will take time before they come forth from their forests again in any great number."  
"I understand."  
"If I may offer advice. Try to understand him. Get to know him and let him breath."  
"Yes Eragon."  
"Where are Lithuvian and Kragmar?  
"Visiting Dras Leona on an errand. They are expected back shortly."  
"Instruct them to call me when they return."  
"I shall."  
"Goodbye Nalani."  
Her face tightens a little. "Eragon, thank you."  
Eragon's eyes soften with compassion. "It is expected. You are young." With that Eragon ends the connection and walks back outside toward the class rooms where his newest students await for their last session of the day.

….  
"You have learned about weapons, flight and a great many things since you have arrived here. Yet there is one thing all of you neglect."  
"Kithain. How would you recognise a storm from the vibrations in the air?"  
"I do not know Ebrithil."  
**"Eriodr, what are the first principles of war?" **Eragon asks the question of Kithain's dragon, projecting his question to the other two younglings.**  
"I do not know. Ebrithil." **  
Then you will not progress. You have made the same mistake as I did. A dragon and rider must be totally immersed. Dragons must learn what their riders learn and riders what their dragons do. Open your minds to each other. Your bonds go much deeper than simply sharing a mind. You are a joint soul. There are few if any connections that delve further into a person's soul then the bond between dragon and rider. You must be able to instinctively feel your dragon or your rider's thoughts and feelings so that you can function as a single entity. It is vital otherwise you are easily broken by any that seek to do you harm."  
**"That was well taught Eragon."** Glaedr's immense presence fills his mind.  
**"It reminds me of when you and Oromis elda scolded me and Saphira for failing to share our lessons. I have never forgotten that lecture."  
"Then it is as it should be."** Glaedr withdraws from his mind.  
"The connection you must value but you must also be able to operate independently of each other."  
Nar Hundur, a massive Kull, touching seven feet, raises his hand. "Ebrithil?"  
"Yes?"  
"When I was separated from Beroan, my heart and soul felt incomplete. How can we ever operate without the other there?"  
"It is one of the cruellest things that one can do to a bonded pair. It is never easy and it always hurts but sometimes it is necessary. For example, during the war I had to go on a mission to deal with the Razac. You will learn more about them in your classes later, but for now, let it suffice that they are immensely dangerous. During that time, Saphira took Roran and Katrina, my cousin and his wife home with them. I stayed behind to deal with a particularly thorny problem, one you will learn of later. And so Saphira and I were separated by hundreds of leagues. Like I said, it hurt and it was not easy but rider and dragon must be able to operate separately so that should one be incapacitated the other is not."  
"Ebrithil, how can we inhabit one and other's minds but then split off?"  
"Your walls must block out even that vital bond. Have any of you ever been blocked off from your dragon?"  
"Yes Ebrithil," all of them intone.  
"That is the block that you must also learn."  
"Yes Ebrithil."  
"Now, it is time for food then bed. I expect you all to know of each other's actions and learning's. Do not make the same mistake twice." Eragon feels a little guilty at the downcast looks upon his students faces. **"Eragon don't."** Saphira screams at him. "When I was your age, me and Saphira were scolded particularly badly by our teachers for failing this lesson, do not feel too bad."  
**"Eragon I am going to lick you from head to toe!"**

….

In the dining hall, the students and their dragons all eat. They all stare as Murtagh comes in, but he does not notice. Beaming at Eragon he seems the happiest Eragon has seen him since he saw him with Nasuada.  
"I am still getting used to everyone eating together."  
"It does take a while. I was in the campaign habit of eating whenever I got the chance when I first started teaching but I broke it. After about 4 years."  
"Bet that wasn't easy."  
"Is Thorn not joining us?"  
"He has gone hunting alone."  
"Tell him to avoid going over the mountains, the lake is off-limits."  
"As you wish." He looks avidly at Eragon. "Will you really send me back?"  
"If that is what you want?"  
"Truly?"  
"Yes."  
He frowns. "Will it not hurt your standing in the Empire?"  
"Why should it?"  
"Come Eragon do not be naïve. People still hate me."  
"And?"  
"What do you mean and?"  
"They hate you for what they do not understand, if I dictated my life and that of my riders lives to the whims of the ignorant. None of this place would exist. They will hate you, but you will do good and a new generation will grow seeing you as the good man you are and not the man you were forced to become."  
"New generation? That's what, 10? 20 years of hate?"  
"A decade or two is nothing on the grand scheme of things."  
"You have changed."  
"What else should we do? Invade everyone's minds and forcing them to accept the memories to show them the truth?" Eragon responds sarcastically.  
"Why not?" Murtagh replies equally sarcastically.  
"Once upon a time I would have been tempted" Eragon chuckles.  
"But not yet."  
"No. We shall wait."

Ismira walks in looking exhausted. "Uncles!" She says brightly. Smiling as ever.  
"Exhausted? Again? You should slow down on your practising and not exhaust yourself every time. Practise takes time." Eragon says to her in a severe tone.  
Ismira winks at Murtagh. "Uncle I do need the practise. I want to be good at what I do."  
"Everyone does. I think." Eragon's eyes straying inevitably to the laziest paring of Dragon and rider in history. A human boy named Lauki from Surda and his dragon Nomfin.  
Ismira roars with laughter, Eragons lips twitch and Murtagh looks confused. "Don't worry about, you will understand when you start teaching brother!" Eragon chuckles and returns to his food.  
"Family eh?" Murtagh sighs.  
"Family." Eragon smiles.  
"FFaamily" a drunk Saphira mentally slurs resulting in a chorus of laughter from all the students.


	8. Chapter 7: The Beginning

Sorry for the long time between updates. I had the first of an unfolding three part nightmare so it'll be a tough month. I know the story is progressing slowly in terms of plot line but I hope you all stay patient and enjoy! Arya will be making an appearance next. I'll polish it up when I get round about chapter 15 and take a creative break (it's quite helpful in keeping the story fresh). Thank you for all the reviews!

**Chapter 7 The Beginning **

"**Eragon is hiding something big. He seems strained a little."  
"Do you think leading the riders was ever going to be anything but stressful?"  
"Hmmm, dealing with vain dragons isn't easy."  
"Dragons are not vain, merely aware of their natural brilliance."  
"So you say. It isn't that, I am sure there are things he is not telling us."  
"He is the leader, I doubt Vrael shared every secret with every rider."  
"I suppose not, we will just have to be patient."  
**A knock at the door disturbs them. "Yes?" Murtagh calls impatiently.  
"It is me." His half-brother's voices come back.  
"Come in!"  
"How are you settling in?"  
"The students treat me with awe. But that's nothing compared to how they view you. Even though they are careful not to gossip in front of me I still catch the whispers. They worship you."  
"Hush now, I am still me."  
"I don't think you are brother. You have changed, you have grown into a leader but there is something I can put my mind on. Why are you so fast? Why can I not sense your mind? Even Galbatorix couldn't hide his mind entirely."  
"The answers you ask are simple but not for everyone's hearing. On this I am bound by more than my own authority and I cannot divulge the details though it pains me to do so. Let it suffice for now that I am changed for the better."  
Murtagh raises an eyebrow. "For the better? I look forward to hearing it and maybe you can teach me it"  
"I am actually here about teaching. Tomorrow Thorn will go with Saphira and you will come with me. We will delve into your hidden stores of knowledge and see what you need to learn and what you don't."  
"I understand."  
Eragon's face remains motionless, surprisingly. "I expected more of an argument."  
"I have known more peace here then I have for many a year. Thorn and I owe you gratitude and I will take your instruction because you are the leader and I am not."  
"But you are my brother and I am not a God that you cannot argue with me. Everyone, from the oldest rider to the youngest hatchling argues with me constantly. I do not expect silent deference, only the respect of boundaries and trust."  
"I understand, so tell me, why do the younglings stay in Alagesia first and not come straight here?"  
"Whilst the riders are still in shot numbers I judged it best to let the Elves, specifically Arya instruct the new riders on the basics until they are ready to make the trip here."  
"Yet you risk the view of preferential treatment. It is how it may look to the other races."  
"Yes, I do run that chance but it is better for all until I can establish a rider with enough experience to teach the new riders before they make that journey. I hope you do that at Ilirea in addition to your other duties. Until we can graduate more riders you will unfortunately be without a suitable staff so all your duties will be you personally handling them."  
"And you want me to do that?"  
"Is there a problem?"  
"It requires a level of trust."  
"And I trust you."  
"On top of my ambassadors job?"  
"Yes, though the ambassador job isn't too hard, usually just a weekly meeting with the Monarch or her council."  
A solitary tear rolls down Murtagh's face. "Trust is so hard to come by yet you give me so much."  
"You are a good man. I know you."  
Murtagh grabs Eragon and hugs him tight. "I can't tell you how much this means to me." Thorn peers in and Murtagh releases Eragon and his eyes glaze over.  
"Thorn also says thank you and is slightly concerned he cannot find your mind."  
"erm. I shall tell you later, but if you need me find Saphira and I shall know within seconds."  
"I understand."  
"Thank you brother."  
_"Thank you for being here Murtagh."_ Eragon replies in the ancient language before slipping out quietly.

….

"The Queen is weak."  
"Oh? She seems quite secure to me."  
"She is young and foolish."  
"But well-endowed with wisdom if temperamental."  
"That is her advisors speaking."  
"How do you know?"  
"I know."  
"So what do you suggest?"  
"Cut of her head the people will rise against you. Cut her off from her advisors and force her to rule the people will do our job for us."  
"You seem to think it will work."  
"Human nature is as predictable as it is pathetic. The 'great' Queen Nasuada and Eragon should have realised building upon people is like building upon sand. When you need them most they will desert you."  
"Quite confident in that assessment."  
"It is as it always has been. Generations at times will rise up and be like firm rock to build upon but with their passing it will turn to sand as always."  
"Are we really that insecure?"  
"You have no idea."  
A shiver runs up the King's spine. "So we are ready to reclaim our birth right? Our rightful inheritance from that upstart illegitimate bastard queen?"  
"I would say so."  
"So be it. Begin with the destabilising of Furnost and poison her chief general. Soon we shall have Nalani upon her knees begging for me to save her and when the time comes Ovid will be merciful."

….  
A footstep wakes him in the night. Though he thinks it may be nothing decades of military drill taught him to always be better tired then dead. He rises, reaching for his blade and falls back down, flailing in his silk sheet, his arms flapping about, trying desperately yet unable to get up. "Yessss, you cannot move and soon you will meet your darling wife. Your time is at an end." A sinister voice whispers out of the dark corner of his room.  
Must sound the alarm he thinks but he cannot move his mouth, the sensation has left his arms and feet, he feels colder and his heart starts to slow. I have failed he thinks and so the great general Nundz dies.  
….

There is a large rap at the door. She jumps out of bed, dagger in hand. "Who is it?"  
"It is I Mornun."  
"I shall be there presently." She pulls her robe from her chair, covering her nightclothes and gets some warm slippers on. She wonders what is going on that they need wake her so early. Finally ready she opens the door to find her chief adviser, Mornun slytongue waiting outside her door by the night guards. His greasy long hair shining in the firelight. His long, pale face etched with worry.  
"Come in." She indicates. He walks in and sits upon the chair by her small desk.  
"What is it?" the Queen asks.  
"Nundz is dead."  
"Dead? How?"  
"Not sure. It may have been poison or he may have just died. Facts are few and far between, the new literally just got in. Our army is vulnerable. Mobilise immediately and secure all the strategic points across the empire. Send word to Eragon."  
"Over a death that may yet be natural?"  
"Yes."  
"Are you out of your mind Mornun?" She says to him. Her temper rising.  
"I believe something is afoot. I cannot put my finger upon it and my spies report whispers of an attack upon Furnost."  
"An attack? By who?"  
"Ovid of Surda."  
"King Ovid to you."  
"King Ovid then."  
"Rumours?"  
"Yes, I am trying to substantiate but that scumbag has hidden his tracks. He is too stupid to do cover them that well and that makes me nervous."  
"You are always nervous. Do not worry about this, I am sure it will blow over. Find Nundz's son and tell him of his father's death. I want a list of potential replacements by the sundown tomorrow."  
"Yes my Queen." He bows stiffly and walks out.  
She sighs as the great iron door closes behind him. What should I do? She thinks looking at the fairth of Nasuada upon the wall. She now knows who made it but it doesn't diminish from the beauty of the picture. "I'll just sleep on it." She eventually decides.

…...

"My King, general Nundtz is dead."  
"Truly?"  
"Yes."  
"And the Queen's reaction?"  
"They are saying he died of old age."  
"Any indications to the contrary?"  
"There are whispers that slimy sly creature at the Queens side believes murder but he cannot prove it."  
"He is too clever for his own good."  
"Did the Queen believe him?"  
"No."  
"I understand. Leave me. I need to send her a letter."  
"My King."

As soon as his throne room is empty a wide smile breaks out over his face. It has been scarcely a day since they spoke and already the plan is moving. After a century it has finally begun! He beings to laugh. Soon he thinks. Soon all Alagesia will be mine.


	9. Chapter 8: Two down, two left

Thank you again for all your reviews! I might be able to create another chapter but I might be out of commission for a two or three weeks, the second and third part of my living horror story are getting ready to begin so I hope this will suffice for now. Keep the faith. =)

**Chapter 8-** **Two down, two left.**

"**Arya"** Firnen hums disturbing her musings.  
**"Huh?"  
"You have a question."  
"Oh. Fill me in."  
"Well the scrawny one on the right believes the Elves should take a firmer stance on the where the young riders can go whilst they stay here and the bulky one on the other side of the table says they should learn as much about elves as possible to make best advantage of their stay here. They want you to rule on it."  
"Such squabbles."  
"You are the Queen."  
"Only for a short while."  
"Do your duty whilst it lasts."  
"I must"** She mentally sighs back. She looks down with disdain at the Elves at the council_. "The riders shall go everywhere and learn everything they need to before they go to Eragon. We will not take advantage of it and we will not restrict them. Soon I believe the trainee riders will depart Ellesmera all together and that privilege will belong to another."_  
_"Such an insult my Queen! What have we done to deserve this?"  
"There is no insult. Ellesmera is hard to find for the other races and nowhere near central enough. The only reason they are here is because there is no rider capable of educating the younglings yet and so here they are. But I believe that will soon change."  
"Who is so esteemed they will replace us, the fairest and strongest of all?"_ A fat elf asks belligerently.  
Arya, thoroughly disgusted by this pathetic excuse for an Elf struggles to keep her contempt at this abomination from her voice as she replies. _"Of that I have no idea. Eragon is wise and will know what he is doing." She fails.  
"Or that youthful fool is making yet another mistake to add to his many."  
"Silence! He has sacrificed more than you can ever imagine, done more than you will ever know and will do more than you ever can. I will not have him maligned so by one who should be ashamed to call himself an elf."_ Rage courses her veins, her anger pouring into Firnen through their mental link causing…  
Firnen roars with rage and the council scarpers. The fat one carrying his girth as best can as he flees the room, throwing people aside as he passes them.

"**Firnen, you shouldn't scare them so."  
"You don't mean that."  
"I had to tell you anyway."  
"No you didn't. It was your fault anyway."  
"Was not!"  
"Was too."  
**….  
A nervous elf pokes his head around the corner, looking at Arya with frightened eyes. "My Queen?" He asks.  
"Yes?" Arya asks, a little more forcefully then she intends.  
"Queen Nalani of the Empire requests an audience."  
"I will be there shortly." Arya replies

….

Nalani paces up and down, a nervous wreck as she waits for Arya Queen of the Elves. She has only spoken to Arya twice, once when Arya congratulated her on her ascension and another when there was a problem with Human logging teams going too far into the forest. Both experiences were deeply unsettling. The Queen was icy cold and put everyone on edge. There was also a hint of infectious sorrow about her that transmitted through the glass and made Nalani feel sad. Fierce and beautiful beyond measure but scarier than all beings Nalani has ever met.

"Queen Arya, it is a pleasure to see you well." Nalani opens as Arya steps into the mirror. Arya breaks out into a wide smile, surprising Nalani. Never has she soon a flicker of emotion before.  
"Well met young Queen. You look more and more like Nasuada with each passing day. My ambassador tells me you are quite similar."  
"As I have been told, though I have my grandfather in me too."  
"I assume by that you know who your grandfather is."  
"Yes."  
Arya sighs and looks a little sad. "Eragon swore me to silence. There was nothing I could say to you without breaking my oath."  
"I know of that, Eragon already told me. What were they like together?"  
"Only three other people I know off have been more in love. Roran and Katrina and someone who I will not reveal." Arya's eyes glaze other as a far-away look comes onto her face.

Nalani more curious then ever asks. "Who is the third?"  
"Did I not say nay? Let it suffice that his love burned bright and it at every corner the object of his affection crushed it until it was too late for her to say I love you."  
"A tragedy."  
"The story yet continues, though how it will end no being can tell."  
"So the two are alive?"  
"Yes. But separated though one of the two will break that cycle soon."  
"How do you know?"  
"There are few things I do not know about this particular elf."  
"You are making me more curious by the minute, however there is a chance there might be trouble at the games. I think not but my advisors and council believe there is a chance."  
"I understand, how many extra Elves shall I send?"  
"About 20 extra should do the trick and send 4 magicians too."  
"I shall send 10 magicians and I myself shall be there and I think a few riders may be present. If I remember correctly another of Eragon's students will have graduated and will return soon."  
"You are coming?"  
"Yes, too long I have stayed in my forest. It is time for the elves to return to the world."  
"This is momentous news!"  
"Yes it may just be" Arya replies dryly.

….

His great granite throne still hurts him, even after a century and a half. Hrothgar was right when he said the king will give up the throne without a regret.  
"Mine King it is time."  
"It seems so soon after the last."  
"Yes it does, I think we may be able to win this year."  
"Do not be so confident."  
"There is also word, Arya Queen of Elves will be present this year."  
"Truly?"  
"Yes sire."  
"She has not left her forest for decades. It is great news. All the leaders of Alagesia save one will be present."  
"They also requested for additional warriors."  
"How many?"  
"100."  
"Send 150. Make sure 50 are from mine clan."  
"Sire." The dwarf bows and leaves him alone. Alone with his thoughts. Even in peace the business of a king is never ending. It will be nice to see Arya again, she is one of the few links to his carefree past though from report the past 152 years have proven harsh upon her turning her colder than ever before. Could it be Eragon's absence that has done that to her? Speaking of Eragon I have not spoken to him for some time now. He rises from his throne and looks for a spellcaster.

….

"Ebrithil, the King of the Dwarves is asking for you."  
"Coming."  
**"Saphira, Orik wants to speak to me."  
"Send him my regards."**

Eragon bounds into Orik's mirror, looking almost the same as he did when he left these shores a century and a half ago. Though he holds himself differently, stronger, more powerful in his stature like a man fully in control of his situation.  
"Mine brother!" Orik roars at him, smiling widely.  
Eragon breaks into equally wide smile. "Orik! It is good to see you after so long an absence."  
"Long! It has only been ten years."  
"And a long ten years at that."  
"What has happened?"  
"I changed a lot. It was difficult and painful but I did it."  
"You will have to fill me in when you return."  
A pained look comes across Eragon's face. "You know I cannot return, the prophecy..."  
"Bah" Orik cuts across him. "Since that prophecy was cast you have been changed, twice over it seems now. You are not the human boy who walked into Angela's shop all those years ago. There is nothing to hold you back."  
"You truly believe that?"  
"Of course, I have learned it is never wise to tempt fate over these years but the prophecy said you would never return to Alagesia. That feckless, scared youth of old will never return. You return leader of the dragon riders and a being of immense power."  
"I knew I could always trust you to give a view on things Orik."  
"As always, the games are in two weeks. Arya is coming! It's been something like 3 decades since she last left the forest."  
"How much?"  
"I am not sure, 30 or 40 years."  
Eragon's face hardens. "I will have to speak to her."  
"Eragon, she has faced a tough time, she has struggled to revive her people and she never enjoyed the work, she never wanted it and it has tortured her."  
"Be that it may, she has neglected her duty. A ruler's duty is not to sit isolated, the peace I built was to survive by all the races going across the world and knowing each other. It was a huge folly on her part to allow the Elves to isolate."  
"And what would you know of a ruler's duty Eragon?"  
"A surprisingly large amount."  
"Oh really?"  
"Yes, I have copies of every scroll from every library the Dwarves, Elves and humans possess and scrolls they do not. I have learnt a great many things, like you said I have changed."  
Orik stands stock still examining him carefully. Minutes pass before Orik straightens himself out and looks at Eragon. "It seems I misjudged you Eragon, you have become more than I ever imagined."  
"I am not too different underneath."  
"I am not so sure. You wear a different set of shoes now."  
"I actually am wearing the same boots I left with all those years ago. They were a good pair." Eragon laughs. Orik breaks into laughter at that.  
"Oh and before I forget, Saphira sends her greetings and wishes she could see you but she is taking the youngest riders on a hunting trip."  
"Send her my love. I must talk with you again soon, my advisors clamour, the business of a king is never over."  
"Don't I know it! Goodbye brother!"  
"Goodbye Eragon."

Orik signals to the magician who terminates the connection. His chief minister walks to him. Orik waves him away. "Leave me be for the day. I am not to be disturbed." The minister bows and walks off.

He retreats to his private quarters in deep thought. Eragon has deeply unsettled him. Just how much has he changed? Though he didn't tell him, he could see little trace of the rider he knew, he is too imperious, too powerful, too sure of himself. When he was displeased with Arya, Orik felt discomfort, no scared of Eragon's wrath. Is it right one being should wield so much power?

Surely Eragon must still exist underneath though? Power changes people and though for the first century he barely changed something must have happened these past ten years. Something big. Orik decides to speak of it in private to the other leaders when they meet before the games to renew the pact they made all those years ago.

…

"**It seems like so long a wait Firnen."** Arya moans to him, her emotions pouring out to him as they fly alone in the deep starry night above Ellesmera.  
**"Two weeks is nothing Arya." **Firnen replies with a touch of asperity. **  
"It feels like a long time."  
"It will go faster once we depart for the games tomorrow. I haven't flown to the sea of grass for a long time now."  
"No we haven't left the forest enough. I neglected the other races."  
"Arya stop it."  
"Stop what?"  
"This mulling, everybody asks what they could have done better when their time of service comes to a close. You did the best you could in the circumstances you could. That is all those two legs could ask of you."  
"But I should have done better."  
"Maybe. But what is done is done."  
"What would I do without Firnen?"  
"Be miserable."  
"Two weeks to go now."**


	10. Chapter 9: Things so easily done

Sorry for the long wait. I've been God awfully busy over the past few weeks. Thank you for all your reviews. I've also had a bit of a revelation to how things are going to unfurl. Eragon is not the same as he once was.

**Chapter 9: Things so easily done**

"**Eragon be careful. In your rush you will damage yourself."  
"Umaroth-Elda, I'm running around so much because I have so much to do and so little time. I have too much energy now I need not worry about overextending myself."  
"Be as it may you are still learning and experimenting. Be cautious. We have explained to you before not to grow so confident you become arrogant."  
"I understand Umaroth-Elda. I need your counsel on a different matter anyway."  
"Proceed."  
"Whom to leave in charge. The most senior rider is Murtagh and after him they are all students. Blodhgarm is the only one with the understanding and trust to lead."  
"Though not a rider, it is not unprecedented. Murtagh is not yet fully trained or understood and so he shall not lead. Take me to your office and I will speak to Blodhgarm and ensure that the duties are not neglected."  
"So you approve?"  
"No. We think it is reckless but you have earned it, even though we disapprove, you have served without break for a century and a half."  
Excitement rises in Eragon as he replies. "Thank you Umaroth-Elda! Thank you all of you."  
"Eragon, take care…" Umaroth whispers as he flies back to the surface.**

"**SAPHIRA!" Eragon roars mentally.  
"WE ARE!" She roars back.**

…**.**

Orik's boots land with a crunch, a small cloud rising as the dust wisps into the air. He surveys the surrounding scene with great interest. Every year a different kingdom takes control of the designing of the pavilions and stadium. Last year was the Dwarves, they built a huge stone edifice that awed the humans. Even the Elves were struck dumb. Many a man wept when that great edifice was taken down. This year it is the Elves and what a sight! Even though he has travelled under the eaves of the Du Weldenvarden it takes his breath away. Several hundred trees, hundreds of feet tall provide a huge canopy with the benches around created by individual trees. Such intricacy!

"You have done better than ever Lord Dathedr. I never thought you would manage to outdo our construction of last year but you have."  
"It is not I nor any common elf responsible this year. The Queen did all this herself."  
"Impossible."  
"I assure you."  
Orik's throat dries up. Such power. "How?"  
"She has been labouring for the past two weeks."  
"I think we underestimated the power of rider and dragon."  
Dathedr nods. "We judged a rider by the meagre standard of a young and ignorant Eragon. Though an awe inspiring sight they were weaker than most elves. Now I am not so sure. The riders that have come from the Isle have surpassed all save other riders in this land."  
"I never admit it but it gnaws at my bones to have such beings of power."  
"The worst part of it is that Eragon has surpassed Galbatorix in power. From what I have gleaned from conversations with the riders he is stronger than any rider in history."  
"What can we do against such power?"  
"Nothing but hope."  
….

"My Queen?"  
"Huh!"  
"My Queen, it is I Nifari."  
"Oh. Come on in."  
"I apologize. Did I disturb you?"  
"No, I was just resting for a moment."  
"What is happening?"  
"King Orik has arrived along with the Dwarven contingent of warriors and competitors."  
"I understand."  
"Is something that matter?"  
"You're going to be King when this is over in a few days' time."  
"I still don't understand why you chose me."  
"I've worked with you for nearly a century. Without you I would have gone mad a long time ago."  
"You overestimate me."  
"I do not. Now come along. We have to greet Orik. I haven't seen him for so long. I wonder how he has changed."

….

"Your leaving?"  
"Yes."  
"Why?"  
"I want to see Alagesia again."  
"But the prophecy?"  
"Was made to that Eragon who would never return to an Alagesia that is gone."  
"Semantics!"  
"We shall see."  
"Eragon be not so confident and at least try to understand the risk you are taking. If you should fall who would lead the riders? Blodhgarm who isn't a rider? Me?"  
"Fear not. Should I fall simply go to my room and from there the path will become illuminated."  
"Your tongue goes ever more cryptic."  
"Just do as I ask Murtagh, brother, please."  
"Why are you so urgent to return?"  
"I left many things unresolved."  
"Arya."  
"Nay."  
"Then what?"  
"How can I train riders for a land I no longer know?"  
"Eragon why do you ask such silly questions? You're still in contact with the various leaders and you still speak of them and scry the land."  
"Yes, but how many commoners do I speak to? How much do I know of how the land looks and feels the manner of the people? Near on two generations has passed, the third becoming older by the day since I left. I must know the people. Even if I only visit once a decade I must see them and know them to teach my students effectively lest we become a frozen order, stuck in a time and place because their leader was bound by an unclear prophecy made to a younger self."  
"You win. You've grown smart indeed."  
"Not smart, just older."  
"That we have. We're ancient! Over a century and a half each!"  
"And long may we live."  
….

"How goes the plan?"  
"Furnost is almost ready to fall. A few more agents in the right places and it will be ours."  
"Excellent. The shame of that city refusing to accept our, my authority still burns deep. I want the city intact, but the families of those that rejected us? They are the soldiers to do with as they please."  
"And I?"  
"Will have what you want."  
"Make sure you do not forget."

….

"**Time to go."  
"Some things are so easily done yet so hard to succeed."  
"That they are."  
"Should we take the map and make sure that we haven't missed anything?"  
"Eragon, take it with you. You always did enjoy exploring and making maps."  
"Hmmm. I'll give a copy to Murtagh and Blodhgarm."  
"Actually, you just gave me an idea. I'll enchant my copy so that if a mistake is present, we can alter it and it will magically change on the large on in the hall."  
"Make sure the wording on your spell is right. From such distance such a spell would be draining indeed. Even with all your strength."  
"Saphira!"  
**

"**Eragon, Saphira is right." **Glaedr says**, **mentally intervening.**  
"But."  
"No buts. Be wary with your magic. You have not yet found your limit so slowly build up lest you overextend yourself. See this the same way you saw your original transformation at the Agaeti Blodhren and carefully step up level by level." **The ancient dragon admonishes.**  
"I understand Glaedr-elda."  
"Good." **With that, his teacher withdraws from his mind.**  
"I told you so." **Saphira says petulantly**  
"Hush you."**

…**.**

"**Time to leave."  
"Let us be off." **

Eragon grasps Murtagh by the shoulder and pulls him tight in an embrace. His students gathered around look lost. Never have they been unsupervised by Eragon before.

He looks around them and smiles. "Never fear, I will be back shortly. Blodhgarm and Murtagh are capable teachers, listen to them and learn from them. I will be back in a week or two with the newest trainees."

Without turning around again Eragon climbs on Saphira who lets loose a mighty roar before taking to the skies with a massive leap.  
**"Farewell and good travels Eragon and Saphira."** Umaroth and all the other Eldunari say faintly.

The isle slowly disappears behind them as the coast appears and the mouth of the Edda River opens into many small streams and the vast empty plains stretching for miles to the land he was once called home.


	11. Chapter 10: Here lies the old order

As ever, bold is mindspeak, italics the ancient language.  
Thank you for all your reviews! I try to write as much as possible and a lot gets discarded as things that just don't sit right so thank you for being patient everyone.

**Chapter 10: Here lies the old order**

Touching his horns for luck he dives down from his branch on top of the Nagran and grabs it tight round the neck. Trying to choke it. He grunts as the massive beast yanks sideways nearly dislocating his arm. But slowly. The giant beast dies. He roars his victory high. Adrenaline surging through his body, dulling the pain of what must be broken ribs.  
**"You shouldn't be so silly Gar."  
"I have to prove my valour Ira!"  
"You're a rider not a child."  
"But an Urgal."  
"At least get to Eragon and his training before you endanger yourself thus."  
"Danger is a fine teacher."  
"But not when it will get you killed. Kull you may be but Nagran are famous for their viciousness."  
"And so I will win great honour for mine self and you when we present it to the Dwarf King."  
"Not everything is about honour."  
"I am Urgal. Honour dictates our society. There is no other way."  
"Hmph. Do I have to carry it?"  
"No. This is mine burden alone."  
"Oh hurry up you obstinate fool."**

He watches as his dragon rises and flies above. 7ft tall and one of the strongest of his race. His family line includes the great chieftain Nar Garzhvogh after whom he was partially named. Only now, after nearly 6 months of growth could his dragon bear his weight, substantial as it is. And what a pleasure it is! Nobody realises just how enjoyable flight is until you do it. His pale gold dragon was born to him and caused great rejoicing in the Urgal society. For he was the very first of the line of the famous chief who changed Urgals forever. It felt wrong that his line was not honoured in such a way. But now I Garbog, grandson of the great chief am a rider and the world is set a new.

…

The wind whips at his face as they fly fast towards the home he never thought he would see again. To the north the vast expanse of Du Weldenvarden stretches off to the horizon and to the south the monstrous Beor mountains dominate Eragon's sight. Below him the Edda splits off into the northern Edda and the Az Ragni. In front of him the desolate Hadarac desert awaits.  
**"We are home." **Saphira muses.

….

A guard eyes him suspiciously. It was the same at the first human cities he arrived at. Though peace and prosperity have made urgals a common sight. The sight of a towering kull still frightens most.

The doors open and a dwarf clad in golden chain slams a weighted staff upon the heavy marble of Tronjheim's floor. "All hail King Orik. Step forward and be presented young rider." He intones in a sonorous voice. Nervous energy filling him he steps forward into the light of the throne room. Towering sculptures of the kings of old surround him. The room looked much less imposing when his grandsire stood here with him a decade ago. His eyes lead inevitably to the granite throne and the wise old dwarf that sits upon it. King Orik.  
He inclines his head slightly as he was taught to do so. "All hail King Orik. I am Garbog rider of Danira grandson of Nar Garzhvogh."  
Orik's eyes widen with surprise and a wide smile breaks out across his face. "Garzhvog's grandson truly?"  
"Yes."  
"He was a fine fine warrior. I fought alongside him at the Burning plains and again at Ilirea. He was a magnificent fighter and a fine and honourable person. Long have I desired to see him. How fares he?"  
"He died two winters past. He was laid in state with the only Urgal King such was his achievement in life."  
Oriks face grows sad. "I hope to share a mug of ale with you in his memory." He inclines his head slightly. "May I speak with your dragon?"  
Garbog feels confused. "You ask permission?"  
Orik looks amused. "Eragon told me a great many years ago when we were in Ellesmera that it was considered rude to speak to a dragon without permission. I have always remembered that."  
"Please King Orik. Speak with Danira if you wish." He feels comfortable around Orik. He reminds him of a wise old uncle he once had.  
**"Well met King Orik. My rider often told me of the wonders of Farthen dur and Tronjheim during our journey here. I see he was not wrong."  
"It makes mine heart glow that you would consider our realm so fine. But reserve judgement until you walk under the eaves of Ellesmera."  
"The forest of the Elves."  
"Aye. I will repeat my advice to you, every rider that has passed here has been told the same. Be fair and courteous, respect all and above all listen to and learn from Eragon. A finer man there has never been."**

Garbog looks at Orik with a newfound respect. Which reminded him of his gift.  
"King Orik, I have brought a gift with me."  
Orik holds up a hand. "Stay your hand rider, you need bring no gift for me."  
"I think you would enjoy this one."  
Orik's eyebrows raise slightly. "Bring it forth."  
The doors open and 15 dwarves struggle under the weight as the massive Nagran that Garbog slew is carried in. Orik starts laughing.  
"A mighty gift indeed. Which of you is giving it?"  
"I am. I hunted it alone and without magic. That way the effort is worthy of you. Nar Garzhvogh respected you greatly and I sought to honour that respect."  
"You have done well indeed. This will be the centre piece of your feast!"

….

"**GAR!" Danira roars mentally. Shaking him out of his memories.  
"What?"  
"It is time."  
"Time for what?"  
"Awake! The ceremony is about to begin."  
"Oh! You should have told me sooner!"  
"I tried. You stayed fast in your stupor."  
"Where are you?"  
"Above you!"**

Garbog looks up to see his magnificent dragon flapping above him. She lands and he jumps on her back. She turns her head to look at him, a twinkle in her magnificent golden eyes.  
**"Try not to fall asleep"**

…**.**

"King Ovid!"  
"Queen Nalani! How nice to see you again! You have grown well into womenhood."  
"Thank you, you look as good as ever."  
"How is the Empire?"  
"Everything is good."  
"I understand, Surda prospers thanks to the trade you bring."  
"I hope your still not upset about Furnost."  
"Ah it is of no consequence. It has been in the Empire since the days of Orrin, my great grandfather. Why would we fight over it now nearly a century later?"  
"It is good to know. Come let us see Orik and Arya."  
"Yes let's do that."

He grimaces slightly as she leads him. Ever the peacock. Soon you will be on your knees. Soon all of them will be on their knees. Even the Elf Queen, that thing has never shown him even the slightest inkling of respect. To her Ovid will show no mercy. She will go to his soldiers to do with as they please. That will teach people not to disrespect him. The Dwarf he will leave alive. And the Urgal he will mount in his hall. No, at his gate. A warning to all that passes that they enter his domain. The powerful. The king of all the lands. Soon now a century's worth of planning will come into fruition. The old ways shall be thrown asunder a new way will start. The Surdan century shall begin.

…

"**Eragon are you going to show yourself now?"  
"Nay. I am going to watch this from amongst the crowd."  
"I'll hang in the clouds. I shall enjoy this."  
"That you shall Saphira, that you shall."**

He pulls his hood up and makes sure the cloth covering his face is secure and moves forward, slipping through the crowd until he arrives at the front of the barrier. The stadium takes his breath away, the elves have outdone himself. Or one elf in particular. He remembers the same pattern and style in the boats of grass.

A massive gong sounds, silencing the crowd.  
The monarchs of Alagaesia stand and Arya steps forward. "Welcome to the annual games people of Alagaesia! As is custom. I declare these games open!"  
The crowd roars and the contestants step forward to add their names to the lists. Eragon moves out of the crowd toward the lists. When his turn comes to make his mark he signs it as 'Vanquisher of Snails' before stepping back. Smiling from behind his mask. Ready to see how these warriors have developed.  
**"Here we go!"**


	12. Chapter 11: The Mirror Broken

I thank you all again for your reviews and views. I shall endeavour to keep these updates coming regularly.  
For my reviwers, I thank you and I shall mop up the chronology of the last chapter. Reading it again, I see what you meant by the chronology seeming slightly confused. Mea culpa.

**Chapter 11: The Mirror Broken**

Eragon steps forward, his heavy clothes hiding his lithe form. His opponent a stout dwarf eyes him suspiciously and waits. His hand on the haft of his axe. A great gong sounds and the Dwarf utters a wild war cry and charges Eragon.

Eragon quickly sidesteps; the dwarf looks up confused as Eragon taps the dwarf upon the shoulder with his hand before sidestepping again. The dwarf becomes enraged as he realises his mysterious opponent is toying with him and charges again and again.

Eragon simply moves again and again, dodging him, tapping him on the shoulder each time. Surprisingly the Dwarf lasts a long time, never giving up and pursuing Eragon vigorously at all times. Finally, the Dwarf exhausted drags his axe up for one last attempt at a final blow. As the axe reaches high, ready to strike, Eragon whips out his dagger and presses it to the Dwarfs throat. The Dwarf groans and mutters "Barzul" before dropping his axe. "I yield. You have bested me this time stranger." The crowd hisses with surprise. Eragon sheaths his dagger.  
"You fought well knurla. You are indeed skilled to last so long. Not many have done that."  
"Ah you have me this time but I will beat you soon!"  
"I doubt it my friend."

The gong sounds again and Eragon steps forward to the next round of contestants. Many of the crowd eye him with suspicion after witnessing his easy victory in the previous round. Slowly the contestants are whittled down and the second round begins. This time an elf steps forward against Eragon. **"Let us see how an eld does Saphira!"  
"Be wary! He was chosen for a reason."**

The gong sound again and the fair headed elf draws his bright sword and charges at Eragon who catches the Elf's hand, twists it round, grasps the sword, flips it and has it pointing at the elf's throat. A look of sheer terror resides within the eyes of the fair elf.  
_"Fear not Elf. No harm shall come to you."  
"Impossible."  
"Not for me."  
"Who are you?"  
"The vanquisher of snails."  
"Who are you truly?"  
"I have many faces and many guises. All shall be unveiled soon." _He bows his head and offers the Elf his sword back. This time the crowd cheer wildly, not often do they see an Elf suffer so easy a defeat.  
The Elves in the crowd looked shocked, some angry at seeing one so talented, one so chosen by their Queen to be so beaten. Eragon steps back into the contestants area, awaiting the results of the next and so the pattern repeats itself until there is only an enormous Urgal fighting an exceptionally light footed Dwarf. The winner to face Eragon in the final.  
**"A strange pairing Saphira no?"  
"A comical pair." **She laughs.  
**"True, but a great fight! They are going through so many different styles."  
"Yet you recognised every single one."** Saphira remarks dryly.  
**"Hush. We have had over a century to learn."**

The crowd roars as the Dwarf scores a hit upon the gigantic Urgals leg. But the Urgal laughs and brings his hammer like sword down toward the Dwarf's head. It strikes him plush upon the dome of his helmet and the silence quickly falls. The Dwarf totters slightly before raising his axe and launching it at the Urgal, who shocked that the Dwarf remains standing, doesn't react. It strikes him flat upon the chest, dropping him to his knees. The Dwarf still tottering tries to step forward but falls. The Urgal also falls, at the same time. The Gong sounds and the rulers talk. Then Arya steps forward. "An awe inspiring fight. Both should be proud of their efforts. In many a cycle there has not been a duel to match it. This is a draw and the choice now lies with the Vanquisher or Snails." Arya's eyes flash with ice as she examines Eragon.

Quickly uttering a spell under his breath he muffles his voice. "I will fight both."  
Arya stares at him suspiciously. "So be it." She waves her hand and the healers rush forth to help their contestants. Eragon sits down on a stool provided by some man and waits as the healers set to work upon the Dwarf and Urgal. Healing injuries and checking for any injuries caused that the magical block didn't stop.

Eragon relaxes and listens to the crowd roaring, gamblers making bets, children lecturing fathers on who their favourite is, old men comparing to the winners of the past and all the while an air of lush anticipation.  
**"Win quickly or enjoy myself?"  
"Eragon, you haven't even moved as fast you can yet. You are moving slowly as it is. Test them both. If this is the best Alagaesia has to offer you should see just how good they are."  
"And we may learn if the Dwarves and Urgals have learned to get along."  
"That too."**

The stadium's main duelling ring is abuzz with activity as Dwarves, Elves, Men and Urgals run around modifying the ring. A small line of trees spouts from the ground and the crowd applauds as it forms a barrier and flaming torches are set, even though the sun has not fully receded yet.

The great Gong sounds again and a row of Dwarven drums being to play. Shaking the very earth with their primal beat that rings so resonantly with the strings of Eragon's heart.

The Urgal and Dwarf stand in the centre of the new ring, talking to each other as old friends.  
**"Well I suppose that solves that question."**  
**"Do not humiliate them, they have earned their place here."**

Eragon watches the two closely. The drums stop and the Gong sounds again. The Urgal and Dwarf look at each other, nod and charge forth. Eragon steps back and withdraws his sword and moving it faster than the eye can see swings at the Urgal, clouting him heavy on the thigh before twisting round and slamming the flat of the blade on the Dwarf's helmet. The crowd roars with wild joy. Keeping his sword spinning Eragon waits for the two to rise again. Slowly the Dwarf rises first and utters a wild war cry before charging Eragon again. Eragon switches sword hands, catching the Dwarf by surprise. The Dwarf, his momentum carrying him on is unable to change his course and ends up being slammed again by the flat of Eragon's sword. This time on the side of the arm, raising a huge welt. The Dwarf roars with pain but attempts to continue, Eragon swings round him, neatly tripping the Dwarf before charging the now rejuvenated Urgal. The Urgal bellowing a wild war cry, reminding Eragon so much of Nar Garzhvogh at the Burning Plains, lifts his monstrous broadsword and launches it at Eragon. The move so unexpected nearly catches Eragon off guard but he twists at the last moment and the sword thuds deep into the tree barrier behind him. Eliciting both oohs and boos of disappointment from the watching crowd.  
**"Nearly got you there. Let that serve as a warning Eragon."**  
**"Oh unexpected yes, but the end result will be the same. Good they may be but they are not of the calibre the warriors of old once were."**  
….

From the Royal box I examine this warrior carefully. He moves fast, but almost as if he is trying to move slow. Lithe and graceful yet his stance so strong. Moving in ways even the Elves are impressed by. This strange warrior's sword is just a haze of bright blue, so fast he keeps it moving. Maybe, I can use this man. Maybe he may help me deal with the riders. I will have to elicit a secret audience. Maybe I can turn him to acknowledge the supremacy of Surda above all others and I Ovid ruler of all.

….

Flying above the plains out of sight of both rider and dragon is now a simple task for one as old as she. The plains below on which Elf-tree-stadium are made upon make this task much easier. The winds are heavy and the clouds thick. The young trainee riders, of them there are 4 are not taught to watch the world and the full riders are neglecting their duties. I Queen of the Sky will teach them different. Partner of the heart Eragon jumps, avoiding the tall-proud-Urgals small axe, and strikes the tall-proud-Urgal again. Knocking him down to the ground for another time. The Dwarf tries to sneak up on Eragon who batters him to the ground again.  
**"Eragon end this now."  
"As you wish Saphira."**

…

Here we go! He thinks to himself as he launches himself as fast as he can at the Urgal, stabbing hard and low with the sword. The Urgal unaware of what is happening is flung back against the wall, his arm broke and unconscious. Eragon laughs and turns to the Dwarf, who to his credit, ready's himself to charge again. Eragon does not give him the chance. He shouts "_Brisingr!" _Igniting his sword and slams it against the helmet of the Dwarf knocking him flat against the ground from which he does not rise. A stunned silence awaits him and the Gong sounds again. He looks toward the box of Royalty. All are stood watching with a stunned expression. All except Arya. A look of pure rage fills her expression and a humongous Firnen launches himself from his stand with the other dragons to the arena. Roaring wildly at Eragon.

Eragon starts laughing. The last expected response and the crowd hushes to an expectant silence as Arya leaps, gracefully, from her place and lands next to Firnen's foreleg. Her eyebrows meeting in a deep V and her knuckles white upon her sword looks at Eragon directly. _"Where did you get that sword?"_ She whispers in a deadly tone.  
_"It was made for me a long time ago by one many a skilled."  
"That is the sword of Eragon."  
"Of a different Eragon to the one you know."  
"Speak plainly."  
_Eragon pulls the cowl from his head, baring his features for the world to see.

Arya collapses in a heap.

…

I hope you enjoyed my combat scenes, I haven't had as much practise with them as other things and I am writing them as I 'see' them.  
As for Ovid, King of Surda's plans. It is a story of several intersecting lines. As one speeds up another will slow and twines will be made in place least expected.


	13. Chapter 12: Moves made

I have been ill of late and times have been tough. I am also in no shape or form a consistent being. I am rather impulsive and writing is just that for me, when it takes my fancy it boils over and splurges onto the page and whilst I do try to channel it, my best stuff is when I just write and worry not for times and deadlines. As far as finishing it goes, the story will take it's natural course and however long that may take I hope everyone can enjoy it to the very end.

All the power in the world is useless if one knows not how to use it.

DarkSphere, I would suggest refreshing once a week.

**Chapter 12: Moves made **

"**Go to her."  
"But."  
"Eragon. Go to her and help her."  
"Fine."**

Eragon steps forward, sliding Brisingr back into its sheath, Firnen looks ferociously at him and roars at him to get back. Eragon continues forward and sits next to Arya. Muttering several spells in the ancient language to revive Arya.

Firnen roars again and starts forward. Finishing his spell he stands and stares Firnen straight in his emerald eyes. He then reaches out, enveloping the dragons conscience, silencing the outside world and then effortlessly breaking through the barriers of his mind. _**"Firnen. We are not your enemy."  
"Who are you?"  
"If you had looked to the skies as you should have you would know already."**_Eragon rebukes before withdrawing from Firnen's mind. As Arya begins to stir Saphira dives out of the clouds to a chorus of gasps. Even after all these years she still the only sapphire dragon. Firnen roars with joy and leaps into the sky, his massive bulk buffeting the people below as he flies towards Saphira.  
**"I suppose you two will want time alone?"  
"Yes."  
"Move far away. I don't think the people should witness what happens next."  
"We know Eragon!"**

Like a rustle through the crowd the whisper begins to spread of his identity. Arya finally awakes. Her eyes snapping open. She sits up bolt straight.  
_"You." _She whispers quietly_  
"Yes me." _He replies in an evenly quite whisper_  
"What were you thinking!"  
"Arya."  
"How long?"  
"We only arrived today."  
"And you waited so long to tell me? A century and a half since you left these shores and this is how you return?"  
"I was curious"_  
Arya's eyes narrow to points and then somewhat unexpectedly she slaps Eragon across the face. She moves so fast he doubts if anyone saw it but the Elves and they would say nothing. Though he could have moved, he stayed. Better to let her have her vengeance and cool off. With that she turns her back and climbs back up the royal box. Slowly a cheer goes up, with the people shouting, roaring Kingkiller.

Eragon turns and surveys the crowd. Old and young alike are clamouring for his attention. He smiles and waves at them, eliciting a huge roar. He turns back towards the rulers, despite their beckoning for silence it takes several minutes.

Arya stands, her eyes slightly narrowed are the only outward sign of emotion. "People of Alagesia. Today we have witnessed some of the greatest fights in our tournaments history. And above all we are privileged to have witnessed Eragon Kingkiller himself educate our warriors on how to fight. I pronounce Eragon Bromsson the victor!" Arya pauses as a huge roar goes up in the crowd. It takes another few minutes before it subsides again. "In joint second the great Urgal warrior Aleyog of the tribe of Narva and the great Dwarven warrior Azrok of Durgrmist Feldunost. You have brought great honour to your peoples."

….

I sit down watching his warm eyes carefully. Even still not a flicker of emotion. Not one after over a century since they shared their true names. Not one. She can't feel Firnen and for the first time in a long time she feels alone. Truly alone.

Ovid stands and quickly presses forward, ahead of Nalani, highly irregular in the order of things but with the circumstances such petty things matter no more. Ovid launches into one of his long winded speeches. Something he seemed to inherit from his great grandfather Orin.

I retreat deeper into my mind. So he has returned. What of our relationship? His face didn't even show anything when he saw me. Why? What have I done to him?

….

Eragon watches carefully as Ovid starts speaking. He greatly resembles Orin and even sounds like him. How the dusty centuries have passed!  
Ovid drones on and on and growing weary of his increasingly boring words Eragon begins to examine the crowd around him. The state of their clothes and the styles and fashions of the people. Increasingly they are looking more and more overweight and with ever more gaudier outfits. Even the lowliest farmer is dressed in what when I was young would be considered great wealth. I have wrought a strange peace. I think to myself. A static world flashes through my head.

Suddenly the crowd are on their feet, cheering. Jolting me from my reverie, I look up to see Nalani take the front. Silence falls as she raises her hands for quiet.

….

The man signals to his compatriots and the men silently start weaving their way through the crowds of the market, surging through with increasing speed. A guard who gets in the way is quickly neutralised. Quietly. Nobody is none the wiser. By the time he is missed it will be too late.

They pass through the second gate undetected and through the third and now only the massive citadel is between them and their goal.

He walks toward the gate, brazen in his intent. His dagger ready. A guard calls out a halt, readying his weapon but he falls. One of his men stabbing him through the neck. The next guard falls and still no alarm. Sloppy rings in the back of his head. The doors to the great hall burst open and a squad of soldiers, twenty strong charge him. He walks through them, all falling around him like the leaves of an autumn tree.

The lord to his credit doesn't cower. He draws his blade and stands tall. His wife and child cowering in the corner. Tears streaming down their face. The lord lunges. Fast. But not fast enough. The man grabs his arm and breaks it. With a roar of pain the lord drops his sword and staggers back, reaching for his dagger. The man stops and a slow smile comes across his face. One has to admire a fellow warriors spirit. The man steps forward and plunges his dagger deep into the heart of his target. The wife and child scream hysterically in the agony of losing a loved one. He watches as the light slowly fades out of his victims eyes, his blood draining onto the stone below.

Time to go.

….

Nalani observes Eragon, he looks much more in life than he ever did in the mirror. Handsome yes in the Elvish way but straight and firm, the way you would imagine a king would stand. Even as Eragon observes the crowd his demeanour changes not one iota. Like a statue of stone his face stays and Nalani wonders where the Eragon who used to smile at her has gone.

This tournament is certainly going to live long in the memory she thinks whilst Orik the Dwarven King stands to make his speech. He keeps it short and though she can't see to be sure, she is sure he has a wide wide smile upon his face. Suddenly a presence envelopes her mind. Pressing against her barriers before slipping past them entirely. She gasps slightly as the presence speaks, it's voice echoing around her mind like that of a heathen God long forgotten. **It is I Eragon, I desire to speak with you once all this ceremony is over**. And just like that the presence is gone. Questions stream through her mind. Though she has been in mental contact with all the races never has she felt anything like that. What has he done?

Orik speaks to her, pulling her forth so that only she can hear his voice. "We must convene in secret counsel. You, I, Arya and Nar Truvlost. Ovid is not to be trusted."  
"I agree. Immediately after this is completed. In the secret chamber as before."

Orik nods and releases her, his eyes alight with terror.


End file.
